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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25822582">Too Little, Too Late</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAHumanMachine/pseuds/JustAHumanMachine'>JustAHumanMachine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Mostly description practice, Short One Shot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:06:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>949</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25822582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAHumanMachine/pseuds/JustAHumanMachine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(Quick republish from where I wrote this on an amino)</p><p>The air his heavy with heat and smoke and fear. A man tries to hide, tries to bargain for his life. The avenger will not be dissuaded.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Too Little, Too Late</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fulton sat under the rubble of the lab's wall, eyes wide, knees pulled tight to his chest, heart pounding so loud he was scared she might hear it. <br/>The sound of explosions and all too human screams echoed around him. Fulton suppressed a mirthless chuckle. He thought he could hide from her. </p><p>Sure, so did Emma. They'd found her body in Jakarta, much further away than he had hid, but she'd always been unlucky.</p><p>Yes, Newton had tried to run. He was gone for two weeks before his corpse finally drifted to shore, but maybe something else had killed him.</p><p>By the time Lilith was killed, the burn marks running down her cheeks like two streams of charred tears spelled out a death sentence.</p><p>Fulton knew he was running on borrowed time. No matter where he ran or hid, she would find him. She would hunt him down, like every other member of his team. And when this invisible avenger found him, he would die. </p><p>There was no fighting her - Adrian had tried. Fulton could still hear his screams.</p><p>There was no appeasing her - whatever they'd done, they couldn't make it right. Sonia had tried. She'd made it clear what she thought of her bargain.</p><p>All you could do was wait and pray she didn't find you.</p><p>Perhaps Makoto had been lucky to die when she did.</p><p>The air around Fulton grew silent. He shuddered. Silence was the mark of this killer - silence, scars, and smoke.</p><p>Footsteps fell, ever gently, behind the wall that hid him.</p><p>Rubble shifted. The sound of her searching grew closer, closer to Fulton's hiding place.</p><p>And then came that horrible sound.</p><p>The sound of raspy breathing, as if someone was trying to clear their throat.</p><p>The monster was so close Fulton could hear her breathing.</p><p>Silence.</p><p>Perhaps he could escape.</p><p>Then the crack of concrete snapped right above his head.</p><p>Then again, like a gunshot.</p><p>Then again, as she punched the wall, over and over, until the last standing fragment of a building in ten miles shattered, broken pieces falling around Fulton.</p><p>Fulton turned around in a panic, and for the first time, he saw the woman who had been murdering his coworkers for five years.</p><p>It was hard to look anywhere but the eyes. They burned red, veins reaching until they almost touched the scarlet irises, pupils reflecting the fire around her and glinting with the hatred that had driven her this far. Smoke poured from the mask she wore as her haggard breath was somewhat quieted. Scars cut across her face, stitches falling beneath a halo of flaming hair. In fact, it wasn't just the hair. Her entire body, the scorched straightjacket she wore, the charred black gloves, the burned teal scarf that fell in tatters from her shoulders, was outlined by the burning light of a fire that surrounded her. Watching her, Fulton swore he could see flames reaching from her back, stretching far past her shoulders as she floated just above the ground, like the burning wings of a falling angel.</p><p>Makoto had called her Phanuel - the angel of judgement.</p><p>Fulton believed her now.</p><p>There was a pause. She floated, staring at Fulton. The silence stretched out - even her breathing had gone quiet - until under the red hot glare of her eyes, Fulton felt himself going mad. He wanted to run, or hide, or fight, or claw his eyes out, do anything to escape the quiet rage in her eyes. He wanted to scream at her, to just say something, to do something, to explode in anger and strike him down where he stood.</p><p>Instead, Fulton stood, resolved to face whatever penance this demon decreed. </p><p>"Why are you doing this?" he asked, feeling tears of fear well up in his eyes.</p><p>Silence.</p><p>"Look, I don't know what we did." Fulton looked down, unable to keep eye contact. "I mean, we did a lot of bad things, but why are you murdering everyone on my team?"</p><p>No answer. Fulton didn't expect one - she seemed determined not to speak.</p><p>"God damn it, woman!" He yelled, his tension finally breaking. "If I'm going to die, I want to know my crime! What the hell did we do to you?"</p><p>"Where is she?"</p><p>Fulton looked up. "W-what?"</p><p>"Hisayoru. Where is she?"</p><p>"I - I don't know a Hisayoru." Fulton shrugged with the irreverent confidence of a man already dead. "Why, what did she do?"</p><p>Fulton felt a hand around his neck before he realized what was happening. She lifted him in the air, her own feet finally resting on ground that blackened at her touch. He realized as her grip tightened, unnatural heat pressing against his neck, that she wasn't wearing gloves. The skin of her hands was charred black.</p><p>Her voice stayed level even as her hand started to burn into Fulton's skin. "Your team hid her, helped her. She worked alongside you for several years. Where is she?"</p><p>Fulton started to laugh, an involuntary, nervous burst of sound. "I don't know. I don't know who she is, I don't know what she did, I don't even know who you are." He looked up, finally meeting her glare. "If you're going to kill me, get it over with."</p><p>She closed her eyes and dropped Fulton. "You're the first one who didn't beg for mercy." The woman picked up a metal fence post, half melted from the heat. "Perhaps you know I have none. Perhaps you are willing to face judgement. Either way, you seem a decent man."</p><p>She moved with such grace and speed that Fulton barely realized he'd been impaled.</p><p>"Perhaps God will judge you differently. You make take some solace in that."</p>
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